


Art Heist

by Starsofgallifrey



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crime, Cute, Gotham, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Robbery, Romance, Suggestive, cute ganger boys bein cute, ed x oswald, eddie being dumb and not knowing shit, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9720620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsofgallifrey/pseuds/Starsofgallifrey
Summary: Edward attempts to confess to Oswald, and is worried he won't feel the same after all that happened. (For the beautiful, wonderful, and talented Nika! -- Love you, Happy Valentine's Day)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ryuutsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuutsu/gifts).



It had been two months. Two months since they had come to an  _ understanding _ . Edward still doesn’t know how he got here, to this situation they’re in now. Sure, it had taken a several many weeks of fighting and setting up redundant traps for one another for them to both finally understood the  _ last _ thing they wanted to do was have a war with each other. They agreed to have a strictly business related relationship; it would be civil and not cumbersome. “When it’s not personal, it doesn't make you weak”. And yet, Edward had made the mistake of falling for him. Or rather he had come to realization he had loved him this whole time. Perfect timing. 

 

One would think it would be easy to confess your love to a man who once loved you, but Oswald didn’t act the same around him, not anymore. He didn’t touch him as opposed to the time when he took every opportunity to brush fingers or squeeze him against his small frame. It had to be the fact he had shot him in the gut, and then tossed him in a river, that sort of event would deter any person away.

 

Ed wasn’t entirely sure he  _ should _ confess to him either. The last time one of them had fallen for the other, things didn’t go too well. Yet, it had been Oswald’s pseudo death that had caused him to realize how much he had been in love with Oswald. He was blind to it when Oswald had realized, but now he was stuck in the same place. Every time Oswald passed him he became flustered, unsure of what to say, and Oswald noticed it. With a sigh, each time, the Penguin would ask “What’s wrong, Ed?”

 

“Nothing,” Ed would answer, or would answer with a riddle which would make Oswald roll his eyes. He slightly missed the time Oswald was enamored with every move, every word he did and said. Now he was in limbo, going back and forth between needing to tell Oswald about his feelings and just wanting to run away from them. It’s not like he could escape them; they had always been there. Since day one, he had been attracted to Oswald’s pull in power, violence, and his unbelievable dominance. So even when Oswald was dismissing Ed, it made his heart beat all the more intense. Oswald was  _ stunning _ when he was in charge. 

  
  


Right now he was stuck in a rut. They were staying at Ed’s old apartment, so memories of killing Mr. Leonard, and nursing Oswald back to health all those years ago were swimming around in his mind constantly. Back, then sharing a bed hadn’t been an issue. But, now they both sat in silence, their breath hitching every time it got too loud in the silence. Ed wondered if he reached over to kiss him now, if Oswald would accept it. He had a sickly feeling he wouldn’t. Oswald usually had his back turned to him in his sleep, except for the rare time Ed would turn over to find Oswald’s face inches away from his own, his eyes closes, his chest softly and slowly moving up and down. 

 

Perhaps it was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t have done it. One night he reached out and stroked one long finger down Oswald’s cheek. It was so soft and smooth. Oswald arched his jaw into the touch in his sleep.

 

Ed needed to tell him. He’d do it tomorrow, and if Oswald rejected him that would be that. It would be over. Both of their crushes for each other would just disappear and vanish over time just like every other conversation. There wasn’t a good probability of Oswald saying yes. When he had forgiven him for the gunshot, Ed could still see the fire in his eyes that told him he was still beyond pissed.

 

Edward was even in awe that Oswald wanted to live work with him. They had an assignment tomorrow; Zsasz had been helping them both find jobs in the underworld again so they could get back on their feet. He had always been a loyal person to them.

 

* * *

 

When he woke up, Oswald was gone from their bed and he rested a hand over the space where he had been. The bird was working in the kitchen, flipping pancakes. Ed stretched his arms, still feeling groggy. “Good morning,” he drawls.

 

“Good morning,” Oswald cooed, placing a stack of pancakes on one plate. He seemed in a chipper mood. This worked in Edward’s favor at least. Shrugging the sheets off, he stood to his feet, walking to the kitchen in his bright green boxers.

 

Ever since he had discovered his own feelings for Oswald, he wasn’t one to stay subtle about them. Even if he hadn’t confessed yet, he wasn’t past parading around their apartment in his boxers until he was forced to put on pants. He had also started to invade Oswald’s space more often. While Oswald was pouring the drinks, Ed rested his chin on his friend’s clothed shoulder. He hummed lazily as he felt Oswald tense. 

 

The smaller man shrugged him off lightly with a nervous chuckle. “Come Ed, let’s go sit down and eat before we have to go to work.”

 

Ed frowned. Perhaps he had been too abrasive. He wondered if he should tell him now or tonight. Tonight would give him more time to think and process what he wants to say, but if he confessed now while his mind was fuzzy it would be over with. Oswald would know. It seemed like the simpler option.

 

Oswald was sitting at the two-chaired table gesturing for Ed to sit down. He did and the two of them started digging into the pancakes as if there wasn’t a fatal city waiting outside for them, as if they could be normal. This was as normal as either of them could get, and Ed had accepted that.

 

He was going to tell him. Now.

 

“Oswald I-” he looked up to meet his friend’s glistening green eyes and the words he had been thinking and processing for months were suddenly stuck in his throat. He suddenly understand how Oswald had felt the first time he had attempted to confess. Why couldn’t he just get the damn words out?   
  


“You know what? I forgot!” Ed chuckled nervously, picking at the pancakes with a fork. “Isn’t that crazy…” 

 

“I thought you said you didn’t forget anything,” Oswald responded playfully, although it was the truth. Edward Nygma didn’t forget. He couldn’t believe he was coming across as an idiot to the man he was meant to be with. Now he didn’t blame Oswald so much for not being able to confess to him quick enough. This was harder than he thought. It hadn’t been like this with Kristen for some reason. Perhaps she hadn’t touched his heart in just the right way, like Oswald had. 

 

“I guess I was wrong,” Ed replied casually. Damn he hated admitting that he was wrong, and yet he knew his confession would have to wait. 

 

Before he knew it, Oswald was already up out of his seat, wiping his cheek with a napkin. “Come, Ed. We’ve got a job to get to.”

 

Ed begrudgingly left the rest of the food on the table and forced himself into some work clothes. It was a cheap suit, not like the ones Oswald would buy him. They worked for almost any mission they were scheduled to go on. Oswald still dressed like himself, and even wore his regular purple tie with his outfit. Classic Penguin. Ed didn’t mind it at all; he quite preferred it.

 

* * *

 

 

The job was robbing a museum. Simple enough; he had done it before. He wondered if he could confess his love in front of the giant acrylic painting they were meant to steal. Would that be romantic enough? Even as the towering museum stood before him in all it’s glory, his anxiety about the following events was starting to diminish. He prayed that perhaps he was finally gaining some confidence. 

 

He twitched when he felt cold fingers on his own. Oswald had reached down timidly to grip his hand with his own. God, he was precious. Ed found himself unconsciously curling his fingers around Oswald’s. 

 

To his delight, the smaller man’s eyelashes fluttered. “I-Is everything alright Ed? You stopped.”

 

Ed smiled down at him as warmly as he could muster under his own stress. “Everything is wonderful.” He dragged Oswald along by his side, not letting go of the grip Oswald had so carefully offered. 

 

The plan was easy. Steal the most viewed painting in the Gotham City Museum, and get the hell out as fast as you can. Ed had other plans. He knew the GCPD almost always arrived late to these sorts of calls, so while the alarms rang, Ed would confess then. In the heat of the moment, in the thrill of the crime, he would do it then and there. And this time he would  _ not  _ choke up.

 

They walked hand and hand into the museum, the sun beating down on their pale figures as they moved; the best crimes were done in broad daylight. It was filled with bustling tourists- ignoramuses if you will -attempting to pose and prod at all the mediocre art. Ed could understand art when it was at it’s finest, but the stuff they held at this museum in particular was child’s play. The only good painting was perhaps the one they were hired to steal. Quite ironic, taking the building’s best work away from its interior. They were stripping a whole architectural establishment of it’s heart and soul. Something about that was absolutely exhilarating and made the smile on Ed’s face creep wider. He felt Oswald’s hand tighten around his own.

 

“Is something wrong Oswald?” He whispered as they found an empty corner. They were both holding cases with equipment in their other hand, so Ed took them both and set them down to the side. Oswald shook his head as the attention started to focus in on him.

 

“No Ed, please. It’s nothing. I’m a little nervous that’s all,” he states. Ed can suddenly feel his hand shaking in his own. He wants to pick him up and carry him home right then; there was nothing he wanted more than for Oswald to feel comfortable and safe.

 

“We’ve done things like these before,” Ed assured. They had, he wasn’t blaming Oswald for getting jittery, it was natural. He just didn’t understand why today was any different. Oswald looked so small beneath him. His green eyes glittered in the dim light and Edward wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss his cheek, forehead, lips. Ed tried not to reconsider confessing today, even with Oswald’s current state. 

 

“Yes I know, it isn’t that.” Oswald fidgeted under the taller man’s gaze. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something since we’ve started these crimes again, and it’s been on my mind a lot today for some odd reason. I fear I’ll collapse if I don’t just say it this time.”

 

Edward was barely listening, still thinking about his own problem of confessing properly. Entirely brushing him off, Ed stated simply, “We can always talk about it later, come on Ozzie, the painting isn’t going to steal itself.”

 

Oswald looked as if he had been shot in the gut...again. He trudged after Ed after picking up their bags, their hand-holding link broken. Edward expertly scoped the first floor and then told Oswald to wait below as he checked the second. It was there, in the dead center of the room. A gorgeous painting about 7 feet high that was of multiple spheres in multiple shades of green. He signaled for Oswald to follow him up the steps.

 

The smaller mobster reared around back to where the alarm located. Discreetly he pulled the lever down. Loud sounds echoed throughout the building, and ignorant tourists started screeching and darting all over the place. It wasn’t like the place was on fire or anything. People could be so stupid. Ed instantly got to work digging the scalpel out of the satchels they brought, and neatly but hastily sliced around the edges of the painting. The act itself was exhilarating and nerve-wracking. Oswald was abruptly underneath him, packing up their belongings in a rush. Edward scrolled up the painting just as Oswald was getting ready to dart for the exit. He grabbed the smaller man’s wrist, and the panic in Oswald’s eyes heightened.  

 

“Ed we have to go!” He rasped out, tugging violently. Edward held his firm grip, waiting until Oswald decided to look him in the eye. Not wanting to waste time, he whispers between the alarm sirens, “Look at me.”

 

With the adrenaline still rushing through his veins he was entirely ready to say what needed to be said. “I’m going to say it here, Oswald. I’ve been meaning to say it all week, all month, but I couldn’t until now. I-”

 

Suddenly the bird’s lips were crashing against his own. Oswald had taken initiative. Oh.  _ Oh _ it made sense. The sensation was like nothing he had felt before. Arousal rushed in through his veins adding to the adrenaline of the robbery. Edward kissed back, wanting to go further but Oswald pulled away in a rush, catching his breath with his freckled cheeks flushed red. “We are in the middle of a heist you  _ idiot! _ We can do this where we won’t get caught.”

 

“I just thought it would be more-”

  
“ _ Move. _ ”

 

Edward couldn’t hold back the smile that threatened to expand across his whole face. He was grinning like a fool, running with Oswald from the top floor, all the way out the exit. They both maneuvered their way back outside to the car, and Ed carefully folded the painting into the trunk and hopped in shotgun. 

 

He couldn’t believe what was happening. Oswald hit the gas pedal with vigor, zooming out just as the GCPD was starting to pile in no doubt. Half way through the drive back to the apartment, Ed spoke up finally finding his voice and finally able to gather his thoughts. “Did you kiss me?”

 

“I did,” Oswald smiled, concentrating on the road.

 

“I thought you wouldn’t accept me.” Edward said, hushed.

 

“I quite literally died for you, of course I would accept you.” Oswald swerves down the street, halting to a sharp stop in front of the building where they both stayed. The Museum hadn’t been that far away from the apartment, after all. Edward followed Oswald out of the car, still trying to process the words that had come from the man he had so desperately been craving for these past months. 

 

“You still love me?”   
  


They were in the middle of the street, just off a museum heist, and Edward was asking  _ this _ question of all places. Oswald stared up at him, and Ed feared for a few moments he might say no. But he suddenly laughs and his voice is raspy and worn. “Eddie, the moment I fell for you I couldn’t bring myself back up. Still can’t. You’ve earned my heart and you’ll keep it, for as long as time permits.”

 

Edward is the one who surges down to kiss him this time. Oswald presses up into him and the connection they shared was overwhelming. Ed was certain he heard some murmurs from around them, but the city be damned. His lips were so soft and all the doubt Ed had all these weeks about Oswald still feeling the same dissipated. Oswald pressed a hand to Ed’s chest lightly and they separated, their foreheads still pressed together.

 

The smaller man was blushing, full-faced pink freckled cheeks. His eyelashes fluttered beautifully; Ed couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky. Hoping that Oswald was feeling pure ecstasy from all this, he took advantage and kissed along his jaw. “I love you,” he was finally able to say it. 

 

“I love  _ you _ ,” Oswald replied steadily, leaning into Ed’s gentle ministrations. He seemed overwhelmed with joy since he couldn’t stop smiling. Police sirens sounded in the distance, and Ed took him by the hand.    
  
“Let’s get that painting upstairs and then maybe we can do more talking,” he suggested.

 

“Maybe I’d like something a little more than talking,” Oswald whispered, nicking a button on Ed’s vest. Ed smirked, and ran his hands down Oswald’s arms lovingly.

 

“I’d like that too.”


End file.
